


Sister Moira

by Mercyfulkate



Category: Ghost (Swedish Band), Ghost BC, the band ghost
Genre: Bloodplay, Dominance, F/M, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 23:07:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11344989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mercyfulkate/pseuds/Mercyfulkate
Summary: Sister Moira is wondering the halls at The Devil's hour.





	Sister Moira

**Author's Note:**

> I came across a sound clip on tumblr with Special Ghoul about sacrificing virgins and fucking them. This is my take.. Possibly more one shots to come.  
> *I do not own Papa or any of the Ghouls. But Sister Moira is MY OWN ORIGINAL CHARACTER.

What was I thinking? If there was one rule that should remain unbroken it would be curfew. Only Papa and the Ghouls were allowed to walk around free of it. But here I am wondering the halls of the church at The Devil’s hour. I must truly be crazy.

My bare feet cause the tiniest of echoes as I tip toe towards the altar room. A curious noise coming from inside. The door remains slightly open; a warm light escapes the room. I put my arms behind my back as if to protect me from temptation.

Leaning forward I bring my eye to the crack, trying to see anything at all, but I truly can’t see anything but movement. I turn my head to the side barely leaning up against the door. I can hear footsteps, at least two people are walking around the room. The footsteps stop.

“Omega..”

It sounds like some furniture is being moved around. I press my ear closer to the door in hopes I can catch something, anything even the slightest bit interesting. The footsteps pick up again and before I know it the door opens and I’m falling towards the floor, but before I can face plant two strong arms encircle me, saving me from severer embarrassment.  

I look up to thank my savior; a Nameless Ghoul.

“Omega, I – thank you! I’m so sorry for intruding. I’ll leave you to it.”

I try to break out of his arms when a voice breaks my attempt.

“So lovely for you to join us, Sister. I was wondering when you’d finally show up. You’ve been calling me for the last week.”

I’ve what?

“Pardon me, Papa. I don’t understand? I haven’t a single idea what you are talking about. We’ve never even spoken before. I just woke up and – I thought I heard something.”

He’s standing in front of the stone altar, his back towards Omega and I.

“I assure you Sister, you have. Haven’t you felt it?”

My face flushes with an embarrassed heat as my hands fly to my stomach, just below my navel. I had, for the last week been experiencing a strange stirring deep inside me, at my very core. I had tried to speak to one of the Sisters about it but she wrote it off as my monthly cycle. I told her it was different but she assured me I was wrong!

“I don’t understand-“

He turns around sharply; I stumble backwards further into Omega’s arms partially because I’ve never seen him before. Papa Emeritus III is devastatingly handsome. In a horrific way sort of way.

 

“Moira -  or would you prefer I continue to call you Sister?” He’s so beautiful it catches me off guard. He takes a step closer to me, Omega’s hold on me loosens but he doesn’t let go completely.

“Moira is fine. How-“ He cuts me off as he takes another step closer.

“I’m Papa, I take pride in knowing those who serve me. Especially those who serve me well.”

Papa clasps his hands behind his back as he walks right towards me. It’s only now do I realize that I’m not wearing the black night gown that I had been issued when I first got here. Instead its white, almost translucent in nature. One from my life before the Church. Suddenly the room seems much smaller, warmer even.

“Moira, I must say you seem much more adventurous than most of our other Sisters here. Walking the halls late at night – disregarding our dress codes.. What else will we learn about you tonight?”

Omega squeezes me in what I suppose is meant to be comforting manner. His hands feel large and heavy as they rest atop my shoulders. My eyes close for a mere second as I soak up whatever it is he is offering me.  When I open my eyes Papa is standing right before me.

“Do you believe in divine intervention, Moira? Do you think it’s possible that our Lord sent you here tonight, in this breathtaking little number?”

No one said he was charming. Ruthless. Unwavering. Formidable. Yes. But never charming. Do I want him to want me? I can’t help the warmth that escapes from that below my navel.

“Where did you just go?” A slight nod at Omega and he drops my shoulders, slowly he turns to the door and closes it. He quietly makes his way across the room near the altar, seemingly busy now.

“I don’t know what you mean..” He takes half a step closer to me, raising his hand to my face, it settles on my chin. He swipes his numb across my bottom lip coaxing my mouth open. His thumb pauses in the center of my lip, I bite the tip of his gloved finger pulling my head back freeing his hand from its prison. Papa’s hand lingers steadily in the air; this time I step closer nuzzling my face into his hand, I take his thumb in my mouth biting down on his nail bed before I close my mouth around it.

Sucking him further into my mouth I swirl my tongue around his digit. What am I doing?

“I think you know exactly what I mean, Moira. There is only one reason I’ve ever been called like this before.”

I let his thumb pop out of my mouth.

“Divine intervention. Tell me Papa. What does it mean for me? Does it end favorably?” He studies me closely. He leans in, his nose trails the column of my neck. He takes a deep breath in.

“That depends on how you answer this question.” His tongue darts out, tasting me.

“Are you a virgin?” He tastes me again softly sucking the sensitive skin into his mouth, leaving a playful bite.

“Yes..” Out of embarrassment my skin flushes, catching his notice. He pulls back, making me look him in the face.

“Then I believe you will find this _favorable_. Are you willing?” I know where this is going. I may not be experienced but I’m not naïve.

“Yes. I am willing, Papa.” He steps to the side making room for me to fully see the rest of the room.

The five Nameless Ghouls are near the altar, behind it stands a large wooden inverted cross. I take a deep breath in, turning to Papa I nod.

“Right this way, Moira.” He raises his hand out in the air for me. I grab it as he walks slightly in front of me leading me across the room. His very hips damn me. They taunt me. Tempt me. Who knew Divine Intervention could be like this?

We reach the altar; Papa turns to me nodding towards the cross. I move to stand at its base, my back against it, the wood is warm.

 “Moira, your night gown?” I make to remove it but he raises his hand to pause me.

“Please, May I?”  He stands in front of me waiting for my consent.

“Yes..” He steps impossibly closer. He has removed his other glove. I raise my arms. He bends down fingering the trim of my night gown, he slowly stands raising it up and over my head, tossing it over onto the altar.

His hands find my hips and he gently squeezes in a comforting manner just like Omega had earlier. He dips his head down towards my mouth, ghosting over my lips. His breath is intoxicating. He pushes me back into the cross, his mouth never leaving me.

“You’re something else, aren’t you?” I can feel his arousal as he leans in crushing me, my nipples drag across his causal vestments as my breathing becomes labored. He tilts my head back so he can look into my eyes.

“You may be inexperienced but your body requires a peculiar touch.” I raise my arms out to the sides, offering myself to him. A Ghoul on each arm, they nick my wrists with a knife from the altar.

Papa grabs them both, never breaking eye contact he brings them to his mouth.

He latches on, drinking from both of them.

His pupils dilate. He sighs, licking his lips he lifts up my arms, locking them above my head. I can feel the blood making its way down my arms.

“Moira..” My name drops from his lips. Ghosting my lips over his I whisper my consent.

“I share my body and my mind with you.” He crashes into my mouth, his teeth colliding with mine, cutting my lip.

“Papa!” I cry for him. He drops to his knees staring into the very center of me.

“Let me see you, Moira, Please!” I spread my legs baring myself to him completely. His fingers part my lips, coating them in my moisture, he slowly works them inside me, his thumb gently plays with my clit.

“Oh Moira, you’re beautiful.”  I can feel it again. It’s so deep. It’s almost unbearable.

“Yes! That’s it Moira! I can feel you calling to me.” I raise my leg up and over his shoulder, thrusting my hips in frustration.

“Please, Papa! I –“ His mouth catches my center, his tongue replaces his thumb as he circles my clit. His free hand holds my hips still as the other continues to pump in and out of me, slowly driving me crazy. I turn my head to the side as I pull on the chains that house my hands. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I can feel the blood continue to travel down my arms. Suddenly driven by lust and curiosity I lick it from my arms. It is a peculiar taste. But one I find I rather enjoy.

I keep pulling on the chains in hopes it will open the wounds further, sending me more.  I turn my head to the other side, covering my face with it.

“Fuck!” I cry for Papa, he looks up. A fire in his eyes. I pull him in closer with my leg. Rocking my center into his mouth, he adds a third finger. The chains burn my wrists as they dig even deeper. I come.

“Papa!” He slowly pulls his hand from me as he stands up. He offers me it and I take it in my mouth, tasting myself. He leans in, licking the blood off the side of my face.

“Mouthwatering, Moira. Truly..” I whimper, he drags the nails of his middle and pointer finger up and in between the valley of my breasts, he veers to the left, plucking my nipple. His breath is hot as it floods across my face, “But we aren’t done here yet.” He takes a few steps back, lifting his arms he spreads them open as if they were wings, summoning two Nameless Ghouls, Alpha and Omega, with his fingers.

The fire ghoul drops to his knees, gently removing Papa’s shoes. He hands creep at his ankles before he slowly drags them up Papa’s legs, letting them rest on his hips.

Omega, standing behind Alpha, unbuttons Papa’s shirt. Placing his hand over his heart he leans in taking Papa’s mouth. Papa rolls his hips into Alpha who’s started to unbutton his slacks. He pops the clasp, sliding the zipper down, he pushes his slacks down catching Papa’s cock with his mouth.

I’ve never seen anything so carnal before. I tug on the chains, screaming,

“Please!”

Omega slides Papa’s shirt over his shoulder, letting it fall to his feet. He’s completely bare to me. The Ghouls stop their ministrations; they walk back to their previous places among the altar.

Papa steps to me, pumping his cock in one hand. He sinks his teeth into my bottom lip, pulling me towards him, his hand fisted in my hair cocking my head back and to the side. There is power in pain. And I’ve never felt more powerful than now. He’s awoken something in me. I’ll never be the same and I could care less. Using his hand, he brings his cock to my center, coating himself completely.

“Papa, please. My body- it’s yours. My mind-“  I can’t even finish my thought because he gently starts to enter me, slowly tearing down every wall I’ve ever enforced. He’s so big. There is power in pain. And I’ve never felt more powerful than now. I thrust into him, taking him whole, I swallow him.

“Yes! Papa, please!” He grabs my hip, driving into me with a passionate force that damns my very soul. I’m only slightly aware of the Ghouls watching us. Their labored breathing and groans only egging me on.  I tug on the chains lifting myself higher, Papa’s cock finally reaching the place from where I’ve been calling him.

“Moira! Don’t move, Yes! Yes!” His strength is incredible. He holds me up by my ass, slamming into me repeatedly, his thumb circles my clit,

“I can’t, Papa!” My center contracts causing his hips to falter, he spills into me, spreading his seed.

My breasts heave as I try to catch my breath. Papa rests his forehead against mine, catching my eyes, he bites my lip, ghosting over my mouth he whispers,

“Good night, Sister.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
